


A somewhat different universe

by Bacner



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Acathla (Mentioned), Angel|Angelus (mentioned), Boston, F/M, Faith as a vampire rather than a Vampire Slayer, Gen, Holy Water, Sunnydale, The Harvest (BtVS episode), alternate universe - freeform, btvs, fire engine, korred, redcaps (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 20:23:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20453033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bacner/pseuds/Bacner
Summary: An AU set in a somewhat different universe during BtVS S1.





	A somewhat different universe

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: all characters here belong to Whedon and co. ...or they are my invention.

Foreword

There are a number of universes, and all of them – save the one where we’re living in, are considered alternate. That is not so. Alternate you call something that is completely different, when a butterfly had flapped its’ wings… and no storms have flattened China, whereas in our universe the reverse is the case.

But what you can call a universe where a storm has flattened China, just like ours, but there was no butterfly to blame it at? What would call this universe? Alternate universe happens when there’s cause and no reaction. A universe when the same reaction occurs from a different cause is not alternate, but merely different.

Sometimes quite different. 

This tale concerns such a universe.

The Harvest

“So this is our destination?” Luke Gorch sceptically asked Darla as the two vampires surveyed a really downbeat Bostonian suburb. “Boy, have the tastes of these two run down or what?”

“Shut-up, Luke!” Darla audibly snarled: she wasn’t too happy herself to fish for the prodigal scions of the line of Auralius in this… dump. But Luke didn't have to know that. “Just wait down here. We’ll be down in a minute.”

That wasn't the case, though.

As Darla walked up the stairs to the tiny apartment in the building, she suddenly heard Drusilla’s voice, arguing with somebody, who definitely wasn’t Spike. At all. Not unless Spike got himself very amazing hormones or got into a close brush with magic, because this was a teenage girl.

And she was arguing with Drusilla.

“Listen, sucker,” she was saying, as Darla stopped at doorway and could not come in, “I don’t care that you got your way inside and got my mom – her days were numbered anyways, all the drugs she was getting. But what I am really pissed about, is that neither of you are paying me rent!” She was pressing a small black gun into Drusilla’s nose. 

Darla rolled her eyes, as neither of the debators noticed her yet, and of Spike there was no sign. ‘Know when to fold,’ Darla mentally told Drusilla. ‘Even an ordinary gun can do quite damage at such a distance aimed at your head.’

No luck. Drusilla suddenly giggled and grasped the girl’s hand, jerking the gun away. The girl retaliated with a slashing kick at Drusilla’s shins, knocking her down. Then the two women began to roll on the floor over the control of the gun.

At that moment Spike appeared from a doorway in the back. His head was dripping and he was looking paler than a vampire should. His eyes widened with awareness, however, when he saw Darla standing in the doorway, ready to explode.

“Darla!” he exhaled rather than said.

“What’s going-on in here?!” Darla bellowed instead, yelling so hard, that plaster dust came down from the ceiling. 

The fighting stopped, as Drusilla and the girl unwrapped from each other and joined Spike at looking at the irate vampiress. Assured that she held their attention, Darla repeated the question: “What’s going-on in here and who’s the kid?”

“I am the owner of this place, now that they’ve killed my mother,” the girl said. “And I want them to pay rent. Or leave.”

“They’ll be leaving now,” Darla said. “The Master wants them in Sunnydale.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want to go!” Spike whined.

“Why does whoever that Master is need them?” the girl asked curiously. “No offence, when I found them, the guy – Spike – he was wasted. I had to subject his head a very large amount of cold water to get him to vomit. Only after that he became in this condition, which is more-or-less manageable.”

“Is that so? Oh dear,” said Darla. “And what about Drusilla?”

“Don't answer that!” Spike suddenly bellowed. “The… She doesn’t need to know anything about Drusilla!”

“What there is to know, Spike?” the girl said sharply. “While you were lying there looking as stoned as my mom usually was, she was just talking to a wall – and if that wall answered back, I didn’t wait for an answer. Speaking of my mother, although you have drained, couldn't you’ve taken her out? She was beginning to smell – to put it mildly.”

Darla sighed. “What is your name, girl?” she finally asked.

“Faith.”

“You are pathetic!”

“Excuse me?”

“Not you, Faith – them! Spike, William, or whatever you call yourself these days – you’re supposed to be the brains of this outfit.”

“If the brains of this outfit are always spending their time lying stoned, no wonder they’ve ended-up in Boston, Loser-City,” Faith bitterly said.

Darla switched her attention back to the girl. “Come here, Faith,” she said almost gently. “I'm going to pay you back for all the inconvenience my wanton children caused you.”

Faith curiously and cautiously approached Darla – close enough for the vampiress to touch her, but still safely inside her apartment.

But Darla wasn't Drusilla: she was much stronger and faster than Dru, and so Faith didn't even have time to squeak, before Darla’s arm shot-out, grasped Faith by her own wrist, and fling her in Darla’s waiting grasp, where her fangs quickly found Faith’s throat.

“All right!” Spike grinned, thinking that Darla has finally taken their side, but his grin instantly vanished, as Darla gave him a look that could scorch walls as well as cutting her wrist and getting Faith to suck on it.

“Oh no!” Spike goggled. For some reason, Darla made that girl into a vampire. 

Faith awoke sometime later. She felt weird. She was dead… and yet she wasn’t. “All right, what has happened to me?” she asked loudly and was clearly unhappy. 

“Darla vamped you – don’t ask me why,” Spike replied, sitting on a seat. 

“Why?” Faith turned to Darla.

“I like you.”

“??”

“I believe that it’ll be good – for you to hang-around, be one of us. After all, I don’t think we’ll be able to trust Spike, and I know we can’t trust to Drusilla not to act crazy.”

“Makes sense,” Faith said slowly. “What about him?”

“It's just Luke. Pay no attention to him.”

Faith wasn't so sure of it, but kept silent, as it was her habit. 

Meanwhile, Luke wasn’t happy. He wasn’t happy for a long time. When Spike, Drusilla and Darla came back carrying some girl, Luke wasn’t happy. When he learned that this girl was Darla’s newest Childe, he grew unhappier. And when Spike, Drusilla and Darla began to argue about this, Luke threatened to quit and walk home alone, leaving them to drive back to Sunnydale themselves. Then, Darla produced a gun – an actual human handgun! – And shot Luke through a knee, insuring then that doesn’t happen. 

And then they turned back to arguing, leaving Luke alone.

To think.

And these weren't happy thoughts.

Meanwhile, in Sunnydale, Buffy Summers was not a happy camper, as she promptly told it so to her Watcher, Rupert Giles, who wasn’t too happy about the arrangement himself. “Look,” Buffy finally said. “Tonight, when I’m going to the Bronze with Xander and Willow, I'll see if there are any vampires to be dusted, all right? If not – then I'll just have a good time.”

And Giles agreed.

“What is the meaning of this, Darla?” the Master vampire asked, indicating Faith, and he wasn’t happy. 

Come to think of it, Faith wasn’t exactly thrilled, either. The vampire male was old – very old – and completely bald. And powerful. And very, very evil. 

He also had an amber gaze that was directed at Faith, and that made Faith wish dearly that that gaze would shift to somebody else. No luck.

“What do you mean, sir?” Faith could see that Darla was nervous too, and that didn't make her any happier.

“I mean, Darla, that we’ve agreed that none of you are going to sire any more children, not after our delightful little romp with Angelus.”

The temperature went down in the crypt even further, Faith was sure of it, and Darla became even paler than Spike already was. 

“Sir, listen to me,” she said, practically begging. “When I found Spike and Drusilla, neither of them were not at their best, nor are they know. I felt that we’ll need at least somebody more competent than they – and this girl – Faith – she clearly seems competent – more competent than Spike, at any rate.”

The Master vampire shifted his amber gaze away from Faith and Darla to Spike and Drusilla, to the former’s great relief. “Darla speaks truth,” he finally spoke in what probably passed in a conversational tone for him. “You two are indeed in the probably lowest stage of your being. Even when you helped to rout-up Angelus, you were more capable. Therefore, the girl stays. Period.” He paused, looking at the other four vampires. “Now you will go and gather the necessary number of people needed for my release. Go!”

The four vampires ran.

Luke was also walking through Sunnydale’s streets in a rage. Darla and her clique were planning to release Darla’s sire, the Master vampire! If that was to happen, then, Luke didn't doubt, the world was going to be screwed. Once, the world was almost screwed by the Master’s Grandchilde, the mad vampire Angelus, who almost got an arch-demon Acathla destroy this world. As far as Luke knew, Angelus was dusted, while Acathla was imprisoned in a place which will be sealed forever – until the world dies and Acathla will be unable to inflict any further damage. 

Luke shook his head. That wasn't the point. The point was that the line of Auralius had to be stopped. And Luke believed he knew just the Chosen One to do it.

“So,” Faith slowly said, as the vampires walked towards the Bronze, “will someone tell me what the Master was talking back then? Who’s Angelus?”

“A bloody poof,” Spike snarled. “That’s who he was.”

“And Akathler?”

“A-ca-thla,” Darla replied. “Not Akathler or anything like that. Acathla.”

“Right. And-?”

“Faith, we’ll talk about Angelus and Acathla later, all right?” Darla said. “Right now we’ve got to concentrate on the task ahead.”

Drusilla giggled. The others glared at her. “What?” she asked defensively. “A tiny black demon just jumped over the moon!”

Faith looked at the others. The others looked at Drusilla. “Let’s go, Dru,” Spike firmly said. “We’ll talk more about that demon later.”

“In Boston, tiny black demons usually appear after a third bottle of vodka on an empty stomach,” Faith said conversationally.

“Shut-up!”

Buffy dusted the final vamp and wiped the dust of her coat. There was some polite clapping behind her. Buffy whirled and saw another vampire. It was Luke.

“Who are you?” she asked him guardedly. 

“A friend?” suggested Luke, knowing that the Slayer was his only hope of stopping master Nest.

“You're a vampire,” Buffy stated flatly.

“Well, I never said I was your friend, did I?” Luke snapped. That diplomacy stuff just wasn't him. “However, you should go to the Bronze if you want to stop the Harvest that is all.” He abruptly turned and left the alley, leaving Buffy to think.

In Giles’ flat the phone rang. “Who is this?” Giles asked. “Buffy?”

“Giles, hark. A vampire told me… that some sort of a harvest is going-on tonight at the Bronze. What is it? Should I stop it?”

Giles was suddenly drenched in cold sweat. “Yes, Buffy. You must stop it!”

“Roger.” 

Buffy lay-down the receiver of the payphone and groaned. “Why can’t all of the vampires die on their own? Oh well, I've killed vampires just before, I'll kill them now. How hard can it be?” 

With these words Buffy went-off to the Bronze.

Luke Gorch followed her at a distance.

Faith was doing what she was supposed to – mingling with the human crowd. According to the plan, all of the vampires were to find strategically important positions, and then, when the signal came – strike.

Well, more like grab the nearest human, show your demon face, and begin to cause panic and chaos in order to escape unnoticed. Still, it was an okay plan.

Suddenly Faith stifled. The hairs on her neck tingled. Something was going wrong. There was somebody who set-off Faith’s alarm big time.

Faith rotated her head, trying to pinpoint the source of her aggravation. She could see that the older vampires seemed either unconcerned or unaware. Why Faith didn’t know. Maybe it was because Faith hadn't been an ordinary human when she died, or at least stopped living…

Suddenly Faith’s ‘radar’ pinpointed the cause. Faith blinked. Amongst the teenage crowd of the Bronze was a small, seemingly lightly-built blonde with green eyes – and Faith didn’t mean Darla, who also answered that description. 

However, speaking of Darla, there was Faith’s sire as well, very near the other blonde. Faith’s eyes narrowed and she began to inch closer to them…

Luke Gorch sat on a bench and smoked a cigarette. He was in no hurry. The Slayer should just dust Darla or any other of the Master’s line, and the Master’s plan will be practically moot. And Luke won’t have to lift a finger to do it. Something scurried over head. Luke quickly glanced there but so nothing. He shrugged. Even in the town built on the Hellmouth, some things didn't have supernatural causes.

“All right, where is he? Where’s Mr. I-am-the-lead-singer-so-I-can-dump-whoever-I-want?” Cordelia Chase stormed back stage, focusing upon Oz. 

Oz blinked. Cordelia Chase was one of the most popular girls in school and she was angry. He had to say something. “He usually goes as Devon,” he finally said.

Cordelia stared at him. “You're Oz, right?” she asked.

Oz guardedly nodded. 

“Good then,” Cordelia said in such a voice that Oz fell that he for sure was going to regret hearing this. “I want to ask you something, Oz,” Cordelia began, and then from the Bronze, the screaming started.

Darla was not having a good time. As soon as she morphed into her demon-face and grabbed the nearest girl, somebody punched her. Hard. Harder than a human could. “Hi!” said the owner of the punch. “I'm Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and you’re dust!” With those words she produced a stake.

Darla was good in fighting, very well – that was true. But she was also way out of practice, so in no time flat, she lay flat on her back, with the Slayer’s stake poised right over her chest. The other vampires seemed just as under-matched to go against the Slayer, as she had dusted at least two or three of them in the process of fighting Darla.

And then the Slayer was spun around. By Faith. Stupid girl, Darla thought, she doesn't have any expertise of fighting a Slayer. 

Nobody told that to Faith. She made a slashing motion with her hand, only slightly touching the Slayer’s stake-holding wrist. Only slightly – but suddenly the Slayer screamed in pain, grasped her wrist and dropped the stake.

Darla reacted instantly. She scythed the Slayer’s feet from under her and grasping the Slayer, threw her far away – in the direction of the backstage. 

There was a crash, and the fight was over – in a matter of minutes. “Let’s go!” Darla commanded to the other vampires. “Grab your humans and let’s get out of here!”

There was a knock on the door. Rupert Giles opened it slightly. “Who is it?” he asked.

“Are you Giles?”

“Well yes.”

“Good.” The door flung open and in came Cordelia and Oz, carrying a prone Buffy. 

“What has happened to her?” Giles gasped. 

“We were,” Oz began, but Cordelia interrupted him.

“We were talking backstage when suddenly she crashed through the door,” Cordelia quickly said, “and there were a lot of those gnarly-faced people on the other side. They didn’t notice us; we wrapped the girl’s wrist, got her outside, heard her mention your name, and got her here. Any questions?”

“Why did you wrap her wrist?” Giles managed to say, shocked by the torrent of Cordelia speak. 

“It was cut,” Oz stated. “See?”

Giles unwrapped Buffy’s wrist and gasped: the flesh there was cut to the bone. “Who? What? Did this to her?” he gasped.

“We don't know,” Oz shrugged.

“I do.”

Three heads turned. A large, rough-looking man was standing before the doorway, for some reason incapable of coming in. “Luke Gorch!” Giles exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Offering free advice and help?” Luke suggested. “You're going to need both, Watcher-man.”

Giles looked at the big, but so far non-threatening vampire, then at prone Buffy. “You get the books with healing spells, you – the crossbow,” he told Oz and Cordelia. “And you,” he turned to Luke, “can come in and tell me everything.”

Oz and Cordelia exchanged glances. All of a sudden, the problem of who dumped who didn’t seem so important al of a sudden.

“So Faith,” Darla turned towards her newest Childe, “let’s talk.”

“About what?” Faith asked, looking scared.

“About the Bronze.”

“Oh? Okay. So who was the stake-wielding blonde?”

“That was a Vampire Slayer.”

“A Vampire Slayer? What’s that?”

“Somebody, whose life is dedicated to slaying vampires.”

“Who’s paying her to do that?”

“It's a destiny thing, actually. There’s one in every generation.”

“That sucks.”

“Most probably it does. Now it’s your turn to answer.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. What did you do to make her drop that stake?”

“Slashed her wrist with this.” Faith produced out of her pocket a small razor blade.

From behind her back Spike whistled. “Well I'll be suckered!” he said. “Using edged weaponry! That’s certainly a new way to deal with a Slayer.”

“And what do you know?” Faith got defensive.

“I've killed two. One when Angelus was still sane.”

“Spike!” Darla said sharply.

Spike blinked but this time he held his ground. “What?” he asked Darla. “The squirt has to learn some time or other, why not now?”

Darla shrugged. “Very well. Faith, listen.”

Faith nodded, looking attentive. “Originally, there was another member in our family, Angelus,” Darla began. “He was… a great vampire.”

“He was the Scourge of Europe!” Spike said sharply. “He was more than just ‘great’. He could kick anyone’s butt. That was his downfall, though.”

“Yes,” Darla nodded. “He took-on a tribe of gypsies, the Calderash. And they cursed him. With a soul.”

Faith nodded. Both Spike and Darla looked really downbeat – a lot of bad memories, it seems.

“Angelus,” Spike continued, “went mad. The soul and the demon could not get along. He… they… whatever, decided to destroy the world like that tribe. Nothing remains of the Calderash, as far as we know.”

“A lot of living and undead died,” Darla continued. “And then Angelus found Acathla.”

“The Arch-demon?”

“Exactly. In the Middle Ages – which were after I was sired, by the way – Acathla tried to destroy the world by sucking it into Hell. He failed and was imprisoned in a block of stone. But he didn't give-up.”

“No,” Spike emitted a laugh without mirth. “He contacted Angelus – whatever the great poof had become – and offered the fulfillment of Angelus’ wish in exchange for his freedom.”

“Was he stopped?”

“Yes.” Darla said. “Both Angelus and Acathla are gone, for good.”

“Ooh, my head,” Buffy groaned. “What has happened? My hand! My hand!” she looked down at them. Both were in their places. “Why don't I look like Captain Hook?” she asked.

“We fixed you!” Cordelia said proudly.

“Who are you?”

“Cordelia Chase! Remember, we sit together in history class? Oh, and that is Oz. He’s a guitarist.”

“At what class do we sit together?” Buffy asked the blonde boy.

Oz shrugged. “We don't. I don't do school much.”

Buffy shook her head. “Anyways, what has happened? One moment I'm fighting some blonde vampire, the next I’m here.”

“You were flung through the wall into the backstage area where we caught you and brought you to Giles.”

“Gee, thanks,” Buffy drawled-out. 

“Oh Buffy good, you’re awake,” Giles appeared, followed by Luke, who kept some distance away from them. “What has happened?”

“I was fighting some blonde vampiress,” Buffy said, “when… I don't remember.”

“One of your hands was almost cut-off,” Giles helpfully said. 

“Oh yeah,” Buffy scratched her head. “I think some other vampire had a razor or something like that in her possession.”

“A vampire with a razor?” Giles looked genuinely surprised. “That’s something new.”

“Someone new, you mean,” Luke said. “Her name’s Faith, and she’s Darla’s childe.”

“Faith? I don’t know her – I mean the Watchers’ Council doesn’t,” Giles said.

“Of course. She’s just a few days old as a vampire,” Luke explained. 

“And already more than a match for the Chosen one?” Giles frowned. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“What do you expect, Watcher-man?” Luke said depreciatingly to Giles. “She’s from the line of Auralius.”

“What are you two talking about?” Cordelia said loudly. “Vampires, Chosen One, Auralius?”

“It's, eh, none of your concern?” Giles offered.

“No way,” Oz shook his head. “They kidnapped a lot of people while we saved Buffy.”

“It's the Harvest,” Luke willingly explained. “A lot of blood will be needed to free the Master vampire.”

“That’s it!” Cordy exclaimed, “That’s it! We’ve got to kill them all before they kill us all!”

“Exactly,” Luke nodded, “exactly.”

“Why are you helping us?” Oz asked.

Luke shrugged. “The world was once almost ripped apart by Angelus, Darla’s childe. I've really hated the line of Auralius since then. Now it’s my chance to sink them all.”

“I see,” nodded Oz.

“But how are we going to do that?” Buffy asked. “There were a lot of vampires in the Bronze; I don’t think we’ll be able to take them all.”

“Don't forget Master Nest,” Luke said. “He alone is stronger than ten ordinary vamps.”

“What need, then, is a siege engine of some sort,” Cordelia said. “In that movie, Alienators, they used a modified fire engine.”

“Does Sunnydale even have a fire department?” Buffy incredulously asked.

“Yes we do!” Cordelia got upset for some reason. “It got three fire engines too!”

“Then what’s the problem?” asked Oz. “Let’s load one of them with holy water and roll!”

Before Giles could say anything, the company was out of his flat.

“So the operation is completed? Good, very good,” the Master said. “Now prepare the sacrifices!”

“What’ll happen now?” Faith whispered to Darla.

“Hush, don't interrupt,” Spike whispered instead. It seemed that after the Bronze tonight sort of a truce has been established between two blonde vamps. At least, Darla refrained from insulting Spike anymore.

As for Drusilla, Faith thought, obviously that Dru was a different story. 

Speaking of her… “Darla!” the brunette vampiress approached the other three. “Guess what?”

“What?” Faith asked. Something was wrong. Drusilla looked scared.

“Remember that tiny black devil? She told me that the red engine of death is upon us!”

“Now listen, Dru,” Spike began but Faith interrupted him:

“Uh, Drusilla, she? Did she come with you?”

“Now listen, Faith, I know that you like to tease Dru, but,” Spike began but didn't finish, as something relatively small and black knocked into Dru, who stumbled into both Faith and Spike kicking them off their feet. Falling – and Faith knew, what, or rather who, started this – Faith grasped Darla, pulling her down as well. 

And then… with a crash the wall of the factory in which the Master was imprisoned fell, and roared a fire truck. 

Luke Gorch was in the driver’s seat, accompanied by the Slayer. Another pair – both human – was on top with the fire hose. 

“What is the meaning of this?” the Master roared. That was the last thing he ever said. The struck, covering him from head to toe with water, and the Master burned.

“Holy water!” Darla snarled.

Faith pulled-out her small black handgun and fired thrice, while the ‘fire brigade’ went-on splashing the other vampires, disorganized by the Master’s death. All bullets hit the driver, namely Luke. 

A vampire cannot be killed by bullets, at least the ordinary kind with which Faith’s handgun was loaded, but the resulting impact clearly knocked the older vampire backwards.

The Slayer shouted something to her holy-water-hose-wielding friends. They started to rotate the hose in the direction of the shooting.

And then Drusilla leapt. She landed right on the roof of the engine and quickly knocked one of the two humans off. But the other one – a blonde boy – started to turn the hose on her. “No!” Spike shouted. He ripped the gun out of Faith’s hands and fired a shot of his own. Unfortunately (or fortunately) he wasn't a very good shooter, and so the bullet penetrated not the boy, but the hose itself.

Darla’s eyes grew wide. “Everybody – run!” she shouted. “Drusilla – get out of here!”

“Why, grandmommy?” Drusilla asked but jumped off the engine all the same. And then the hose burst from the internal pressure of holy water.

Faith didn’t remember much after that. She only remembered some sort of noise – possibly, it came from her, and somebody pulling her out of there.

“How did it go?” Giles asked as the ‘four musketeers’ came back to his flat.

“Fifty-fifty,” replied Oz. “We burnt vampires’ butt, they shot at ours.”

“Shot?” Giles was shocked. “First razors and now guns? This can’t be happening!”

“Want to bet?” Luke snarled, stumbling in. Three round holes gaped on his left side. “It’s that new girl – Faith. She’s from Boston.”

“It wasn't a girl who shot at Oz,” Cordelia shook her head. “I saw it. It was some guy with a bleached head of hair.”

“Spike then,” Luke snarled. “That bloody stoned son of—“

“No such language please!” Giles spoke sharply. “Buffy… Oz. Can one of you tell me what had happened?”

“We arrived like the cavalry,” Buffy began “and hosed-down the old bald geezer so that he all burned-up. Then Luke got shot while Oz and Cordy went on watering the others.”

“And then a vampiress leapt at us,” Oz continued. “She knocked Cordy off the engine. I tried to splash her, but the blonde vampire shot the hose through. It burst.”

“Luckily, the vampires were all dead or fled by then,” Buffy continued. “So we didn't have any problems in driving out of there.”

“All in all, an eventful night,” summarized Cordelia. The others glared at her. “What?” 

“I think,” Oz slowly said, “I think that this is just the first night in the set of many.”

This statement was agreed by everyone.

“What has happened?” Faith groaned and opened her eyes. “Am I still – undead?”

“Yes you are,” Darla said crossly. “All of us are – one way or another, I suppose.”

“Great,” Faith scratched her head. “Uh—is Drusilla okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” the other brunette giggled. “I'm talking to the funny tiny demon!”

Faith looked at that direction. Before Drusilla indeed, was sitting a small, black-skinned creature with clawed hands and hoofed feet. “That’s not a demon,” Faith said crossly. “That’s Corey – my next-door neighbour. She was the one who told me about you bozos.”

“Excuse me,” Darla spun Faith around. “You're saying that your next-door neighbours are dark elves?”

“We're korreds, thank you very much!” Corey said shrilly. 

Faith shrugged. “That’s so surprising? Actually, there are a lot of families like Corey’s – korreds, knockers, quiet folk, wichtlins and changelings – and goblin-kin. Like me.”

Spike understood it first. “Ha-ha!” he laughed. “Angelus’ replacement in the line of Auralius is a goblin!”

“Shut-up, you fool!” Darla snarled. “I wasn't the one who ate her mother!”

“What’s wrong?” Drusilla asked the other two. “So what if Faith’s a goblin? She is still nice, not like the redcaps.”

“You know of the redcaps?” Corey asked.

“Why, yes!” Drusilla beamed, turning to the korred. “They’re wicked and shameless! They want to peal one’s flesh and steal one’s goods – and they are always hungry!”

“That’s them,” Corey chirped, “that are them.”

“So,” Faith turned to Darla and Spike. “What are we going to do now?”

“Faith,” Darla said with a thoughtful look, “tell us more about the community way of life in Boston.”

The end?


End file.
